Mokiri hurried back to Aleigha. Her mouth parted, shocked he was still by the poster. "You waited?" she moved inch by inch to him. "By a piece of string." he shrugged, not willing to admit he scratched lines into the earth waiting.
"Guess what I found." she said sitting next to him. She pulled out the pistol she found in the mailbox. "This."
"Cool." he took it from her. A black multi-barreled pistol. "Shimmy." he said, flicking it open. Five barrels, a rubber grip around a metal frame. "Imma call it Shimmy."
"Shimmy?" she scoffed. "What does that mean?"
"Like," he sucked his teeth. "Move."
"Lame."
He rolled his eyes, "You wouldn't understand."
He closed the gun and opened it again to check for bullets, "Full set." he closed it. "Where did you get this?" he asked.
"It was in a mailbox."
"So stolen?" he examined the grip. The initials, B.L. "Did you know the guy?" he faced her. Mokiri glared, "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing. You brought me a stolen gun."
She got up, "You're an asshole."
"I wasn't that when I jacked you off."
She clenched her teeth, her fist balled. Aleigha pointed the gun at her. "I don't know if you were listening." his eyes glowed pink and his voice deepened, "I have a full set. Try me."
There was a voice behind his own. She didn't recognize it. "Aleigha?"
Aleigha held his head, he dropped the gun. The weapon bounced off the ground, clattering. He shook it off, "What did you just hand me?"
"A... gun."
They both looked at the pistol shaking on the pavement. Aleigha kicked it towards Mokiri and she kicked it back. "You're a vampire." she mumbled.
"And you're a werewolf," he kicked it in the street.
They stared at the gun in the street. It stopped shaking. Aleigha stepped to the edge with the thought of picking it up. Mokiri held his shoulder, "What are you doing?"
He faced her; her chubby round face seemed so calming to him. His lips parted to speak, they closed upon an object clanking against the back of his head. "What the fuck!" his teeth bore into his bottom lip. "Kuchanganyikiwa!"
He rubbed the back of his head. "You know swahili?" Mokiri asked. "My mom..." he said, "She told us that we should learn a language. So, I picked Swahili, a little Spanish and Arabic."
"Oh..." impressive compared to her knowledge of... nothing. "I know a language."
"What language?"
"English." she sighed, "It's exactly really hard. We have verbs and conjunctions. Like there is this thing called 'an incomplete sentence."
Aleigha tilted his head, "You mean those run on sentences?"
"Yeah..." she said unsure. "It's like... a sentence. But it keeps being a sentence."
"Alliteration?" he assumed.
"Onomatopoeia?"
"Gesundheit." Aleigha grinned. They both caught the joke and smiled wildly at the each other.
"Now what?" Mokiri laid her eyes on the gun. "Vampire magic?"
"Don't touch it." he stressed.
Aleigha didn't want to acknowledge that a gun hit him, but there was nothing else around. "Let's go back to the mansion."
"But you said I needed bone marrow."
He looked at the moonlight, "It's super late. Plus, technically, you shouldn't be out. You'll catch rabies."
She furrowed and swung at him. Aleigha ducked, chuckling at her anger. "That's a stereotype." she clarified with her hands on her hips.
.
.
.
.
Back at the mansion Aleigha searched in the house for an extra bedroom. He also had to remind himself that the home was the Mayor's house. He also told himself it was basically a rental, so anyone could own it.
The mayor got the house with the election. A wide kitchen, a spacious living room. Swimming pool in the backyard and two stories. Too many damn windows and a basement for secrets.
With that in mind, he could do something with it. There was plenty of space. He could make a trap house out of it, then he wouldn't have to worry about getting a meal for Mokiri.
He found a set of extra rooms. Four bedrooms, a library, lounge, and five bathrooms.
"Ok, you get the biggest room." he said.
"Why can't we share?"
Because he wanted to play the big brother role.
"We could share... but, don't girls like big beds?"
She put her hands on her hips. "You're concerned about a girl having enough space?" Mokiri arched her brow. Aleigha shrugged, "I'm being a gentleman."
"Nigga, fuck you. When I want something gentle I'll tell you."
He rolled his eyes and faced the door, "Like me jacking you off?"
Mokiri pounced in the cushioned bed, "What was that?"
"I like me some meat!" he shouted. "Pork chops."
"Damn, sorry." Aleigha grabbed the doorknob, "Do you wanna finish?" his ears twitched, he looked back at her. "What?" he blinked. She sat up in bed and spread her legs. Thank god she wore pants.
"No."
"What--Wow..." she sneered. "You're one of those polite vampires. You not from Africa?"
"Bitch, me not wanting to fuck you doesn't say I'm not an Africa vampire."
She laid flat on the covers, "Growden sure wanted to."
"That fat white man has a thing for kids. Everyone knows the scandal." he paced towards the bed. "Did he adopt you?"
"I... think. It was like an auction." she lifted her head, "You heard of the La Boule Dents De Bébé?"
"Watch your French." he teased wanting to earn a chuckle to lightened the mood. Aleigha crossed his arms, "I've heard of an auction over the dark web."
"that!" she pointed in the air. "La Boule Dents De Bébé, is the auction. I hate to put this on Louisiana but it's the closest thing to voodoo."
"mmm," Aleigha moved to sit on the bed. "What of it?"
"Louisiana is all about hurricanes, it's the boot of Texas and the biggest piece of French in America, technically. I just thought it was weird how out of all the south states, Louisiana is more on the topic of what Florida is for gators."
"Get to the point."
"Louisiana is known for things but they added something new. It happened during Mardi gras in 1994, a man named Gaffar Jaubert. Kidnapped eight kids and bit them." she explained. "Another thing about Louisiana is religion, like, I swear every crazy ass Chrisitan story might have a little twang in between."
Aleigha frowned, "My uncle is cajun."
She stared at him, "You unfortune piglet."
"Fuck you."
"Thank you. So, anyway, Louisiana is the biggest shot for vampire worship. Also, some say a lot of Cajuns were involved in the Red Blight."
"The Blight?"
"A large amount of creoles—or less than I remember. Had a fixation, you heard of Big Belly Black?"
"Who?"
"A vampire that used to be in the bayou. Dracula in the swamp or something. So, people who went out to the bayou had their boats taken from a giant vampire, singing in the swamp. At the time, it had a bunch of dead gators."
"cool."
"Just for fun and shit. Delagati Lyons."
"Ok..." Aleigha sucked in air remembering one of his uncles once had the last name Lyons. "some say this creole wasn't creole but solid African. It was dead bodies in the swamp, the swamp turned black, because he ate people and others."
"What is the point?"
"What I'm trying to say is, Growden has Louisiana shit all over the office. He's a praiser living in Virginia. Vamps love churches. It's so they can feed on the soul, body, and mind."
Aleigha just listened. If he had a question, he didn't want Mokiri biting his head off. "As a werewolf, I don't know my Line. But I was bred with a good amount of French."
"You said you were Hawaiian." he grimaced.
"I am! I think... do I look Hawaiian?"
"What was the most disrespectful scene in Lilo and Stitch?"
Mokiri gawked at Aleigha, her mouth open. "Alright then..."
.
.
.
.
People lined up near Newington Green. A couple of 35 people entered an abandoned building. The thirty-five people were regular students of a high school, not Amalaric Thrallmaster. "What is Zvi planning?" asked a boy with his blonde bangs draped over his eyes. The girl with purple hair and green contacts looked at him and shrugged. Behind them a round six-foot boy with brown hair and black bracelets on his wrist, "Looks gay." he said.
"Oh, shut up Brian." rolled the purple haired girl, Sing.
"That's Mr. Darkness to you." corrected Brian, the blonde did not hesitate to smack him across the face. "Shut the fuck up." he ordered. "Quit with all this stereotypical emo shit."
Brian rubbed his cheek, "Fuck you Daryl..."
"Shit...," Daryl fumed, "Where the fuck is the thing?"
Sing pointed at a red hue in the darkness, "He left something."
"Why are all these people here?" asked Brian. "Probably from that bootleg site." said Sing.
"It's not bootleg," Daryl walked ahead. "It's actually real."
"You told him otherwise last week." said Brian.
"You did," Sing went to catch up with Daryl.
"You two had a fight and everything."
"And I broke that nigga's jaw. So what?"
"What's with you and Zvi?" questioned Brian who walked slowly. This small gang had a lot in common, they went to Sinclair Chamberlain Academy. Out of the major schools in Virginia. Sinclair was a regular school.
They usually discussed what Mr. Thompson had for homework or the latest fight between two students. Or Rhad Madaki who shifted between schools and came back on a Monday.
Daryl thought about Zvi. He hung around Rhad a lot. They last time he saw them together. Zvi was giving head and Rhad was recording. The man receiving took it with no complaints. Then again, he assumed he was dead by his slit throat.
He didn't say anything.
Zvi always drunk from a flash. A red liquid seeped out, covering his mouth. It gave him a wicked energy. Then he bite some girl and took a piece of meat out her leg.
They made it to an auditorium, the thirty-five people walked in, the stage lit up with a coffin. "Are we looking at a fucking Romeo and Juliet replay?" said somebody.
One individual took out their phone, he tapped the twitter app, opening his profile and checking his following. He scrolled till he found Elsewhere and Nowadays Comic. Two cats were on the banner of the twitter profile. To the left, a brown cat with blue eyes standing on two legs with a sword in his hands. To the right, a black cat with blue stripes and a set of fangs.
He viewed the lastest tweet. 'Fuck whoever hacked my site. I haven't seen able to upload in six months. Six hundred dollars is missing from my bank account and my comic keeps missing pages.'
He swiped down. 'To anyone that has drawn fanart of Elsewhere and Nowadays, please fucking stop'
Again. 'I don't like vampires, they're overrated.'
Two more post. 'Everyone is saying a worshipper. I don't know what that is. Give me back my fucking life.'
'I made the comic for shits and giggles. I'm being accused of black magic which doesn't even exist.
He looked through the photos. One picture stood out to him, the author and two figures dressed as the characters with hallow eyes. Elsewhere, the brown cat held a knife under the author's neck.
Another photo of the author and Rhad Madaki at a comic convention. Rhad is holding a thumbs up as well as the author. He's wearing, Elsewhere and Nowadays mech. The tweet attaches to it read: 'Meeting fans is so good! Shoutout to everyone I met.'
He went back to the profile, 'See new Tweets'
He tapped the update tab; he saw the newest tweet. 'Got you Peppermint. Tell Nobody.'
"Check." he put away his phone.
They took their seats in the auditorium. Zvi appeared on stage dressed in a long black robe. "Good evening, my fellow wannabes."
Brian sneered at the allegation as well as many others. "I contacted all of you, to show my proofs." he preached.
Somebody raised their hand in the crowd, "Why was you sucking dick in the lunchroom?"
The crowd tittered with Daryl covering his mouth, 'I guess I really didn't have to say anything.'
Zvi lips twisted, "Not important."
"You did it two times." yelled another.
"And you did it in the girl's bathroom. You came out in a dress."
"Why do you wear a bra?"
"La'James from art class said you spreaded for him."
"They caught you in the library jacking off to puppies."
Daryl, Sing, and Brian sat still. Brian decided to stand up, "Why am I here?"
"Why do you always have blood around your mouth?" Sing put into question. Daryl slapped her arm, she shrugged. The auditorium filled with noise and insults. "Shut up!" murmured Zvi with a crinkled face. "Shut up!" his voice grew louder.
"Why did you post a picture of your dick on twitter and claimed you didn't what to do with three inches?"
"You tagged random people."
"Shut up!" he stomped.
"Are you going to cry?" yelled Brian. "Why am I here?"
"Shut up! All of you, shut the fuck up!"
"You shut up!" countered Brian. "You're fucking weird."
Zvi lips twitched; he rose his hand. Brian left the comfort of the seat to the walkway. "Why did you text me you wanted my nuts in yo mouth!?" he sauntered to the stage. "You keep fucking texting me. You sent me a picture of you grinding a bed post!"
As to stood upon the stage, Brian shoved him. "I have proof. As the lord said, But false prophets also arose among the people, just as there will be false teachers among you, who will secretly bring in destructive heresies, even denying the Master who bought them, bringing upon themselves swift destruction." he backed away from Brian.
"Shut up!" Brian tackled him to the ground. He belted his face with his fist balled. On his middle finger a skull ring imprinted Zvi's cheek. "Beat his ass Chubby!"
"Jesus save me!" squawked Zvi. "I am your master!"
Left hand, right hand. A crack in between, Brian stood up and stomped on his hip. Zvi rolled into a ball, shielding him. "Jesus!" he called again. "I don't hav--"
Zvi's word cut; a shoe met his lips. "Man let's fuck this nigga up!"
35 people become, 34 murderers. Zvi was beaten and stabbed. Daryl even participated. He had a gun on his hip, he shot Zvi in the shoulder, in the leg. A girl joined, her hair pink and white. She kicked him in the head, knocking him unconscious. "Stab him again, I can hear him whistle."
But there was no sound.
A growl behind the curtains on stage. They stripped Zvi of his clothes; his body motionless. "Bite that bitch!"
"I got fangs!" yelled a girl. Her faux teeth flickered out of her jaw, "I've waiting to try them out."
"Suck him dry!"
Daryl's faux teeth came out, he went to the ground and chewed at the bare skin. In his head, 'Why am I doing this?'
"Enough"
The gang sunk their teeth inside the dead body. Slurping blood, tearing flesh. Licking at his wounds.
"Mine... my body."
Brian lifted Avi's arm and drew the blood out of a hole he made. "I'm not even a vampire. But it tastes like V."
"Don't it?"
He Bore over his shoulder, "Sing! Come join us!"
Sing remained in her chair; she watched her classmates maul someone. "Daryl..."
"Girl, come here! This bitch leaking everywhere!"
"Because you killed him..."
"Singsong..." uttered a voice. "Cut his leg off, I ain't getting' nothin' on this side."
A person took out a switchblade, "Move over."
"I said ENOUGH!" the switchblade flew out of the hands of the person. A force behind him straightened his back.
They stopped their feast. "What's happening to Luke?"
Luke's eyes ascended to the back of his head. Daryl stood up, "what the fu—ahh" he clutched his heart. "Daryl?" Sing's lips parted.
His eyes became black, his spirit escaped through his mouth. He sighed, "Look... what... you did."